I can still smell the blood, can still taste it. But washed down with taste of wine and victory, it in not half as bad.
The skirmishes with both local fauna and patrols of others who came to this area in search of riches and fortune began to take a toll on our warriors, and among them the most on Bladelord platoon, who are still reeling from losses incurred during Dolmenville battle. So, when we learned of the temple of healing on a sorry patch of dry-ish land the locals call 'Blighted Isle', we decided to try and take it for our own. But it seems the very concept of respite from bloody fighting is abhorrent in the eyes of those Khorate savages who, as we later learned, call themselves the Gilded Skulls.
We first noticed our enemy near some old, moss and mold-covered ziggurat: their white armor streaked with grime as they tried to lay an ambush. The ruse did not work, and it seemed even our enemy was chaffing on using such tactics, and so they moved quickly towards us.
Arcane sigils flared in the air, in spite of our enemy's priest hollering bloody vengence on 'spellslinging covards'. The ground gave way as Ydriliqi rune slowed our enemy's charges, and water boiled under flashes of sunlight Lady Belkharia send towards Skullcrusher cavalry, bogging them down further in clouds of water vapor. We sent our Warden pikes to the left flank and tried for charge of our own, but severely underestimated the terrain. At least our Sentinel archers managed to shoot their wardogs to bits.
Then, the advancing enemy Blood Warrior infantry tied down our Dawnriders who, to their credit, gave as good as they got, with aAdy Belkharia once again cutting enemy down left and right. Meanwhile, under steady cover of volley after volley, I took our Bladelords down the right flank, to break through, but instead, we came face to face with that crazed priest. Khorates lust for battle, but are used to the enemy either withdrawing or bracing for their charge, so I can only imagine the surprise my enemy must have felt when I charged him instead, almost slipping in the brimy water, and wrapping my banner around his head, blinding him mementarilly.
Meanwhile, enemy Skullcrushers slammed into our pikes, but the courage of the men and women, combined with the flaring of the Alaithi rune, saw them hold the line. In the center, our Dawnriders continued to hack and slash against enemy infantry, turning the mud brownish-red with blood and gore. Lady Belkharia galloped on her lightcourser to our side and we managed to cut down the enemy priest.
But just as the battle turned to our favor, a huge creature, more monster than man, pounded on our commander, and after several moments of furious fighting, managed to pummel into her mount, and then proceeded to tear off its front leg and started beating her to death to it. Blooded, and with revivification gem falling from her grip, Lady Belkharia lost consciousness, and the howl of the once-man drowned out all the commands our warriors shouted.
I began to fear the worst, but then, finally, our brave cavalry cut down the last of the Blood Warriors and turned to the berserker. With lances, swords and hooves, the trio of them managed to grind the fiend to the mud and retrieve unconcious Lady Belkharia and her dying mount. The felling of their chiefs finally sent the horde packing, our Wardens shouting abuse and curses after the Skullcrushers they cut down to a last few in a melee no less brutal on our left flank.
After the battle was over, we rushed both Bladelords, Lady Belkharia and her crippled Lightcours to the shrine where our mages frantically began their work, the bounty of Aqua Ghyranis to use as we saw fit.